Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus: An Argument

Sovereign Dichotomy: The Political Tightrope between Burke and Godwin in Shelley’s Frankenstein

Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable one; for when we suffer, or are exposed to the same miseries by a government, our calamity is heightened by reflecting that we furnish the means by which we suffer.  Government, like dress, is the badge of lost innocence.   –Thomas Paine

In 1818 Mary Shelley wrote the gothic horror story, Frankenstein, about an obsessed scientist’s creation of a humanoid monster.    For centuries critics of Shelley’s Frankenstein have always found it difficult to prove whether the novel sympathizes with the revolutionary ideas of William Godwin or whether the novel condemns them for being too radical and adopts a political theory that more resembles that of Edmund Burke. Scholars such as Andrew Stauffer, Fred Botting, and Graham Allen argue that the symbolism found in Frankenstein supports Burke’s theory of needing a stable monarchy for civility to exist.  Other scholars such as Collene Bentley, Anne Mellor, and Susan J. Wolfson argue that Frankenstein is in support of a Godwinian utopia.    However, I believe Shelley’s novel manages to walk a tightrope between Burke and Godwin, and more resembles the philosophy of her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, and the ideas of Thomas Paine.   If the novel was forced to agree more with Burke or Godwin, I believe that the text speaks favorably of Godwin’s theories because of the Creature’s craving for equality in the brotherhood of men, and his destruction of all initial normalcies within the novel; however, Shelley understands that even utopian states need to be somewhat governed.  By studying Victor and the Creature, Shelley’s invocation of Prometheus and Paradise Lost, and the influence of the French Revolution, one can see how the text celebrates the idea human equality while rejecting Burke’s hierarchical philosophy.

  Fred Botting makes the connection between Frankenstein and Burke’s philosophy by writing:

On one level, the monsters of the French Revolution are no exception, since they signify the uncontrollable violence of the mob, Edmund Burke’s ‘swinish multitude’ that tramples over civilised society. But there are other forms of monstrosity that also appear in the conflicts produced by the revolution in France: among the waves of riotous noise individual and monstrous voices make themselves heard.  Incarnated in identifiable shapes, monsters begin to be defined by the dangerous words they speak, words that question and resist, like the speech of Frankenstein’s creation, the terms of the system into which they are born.  Such resistance, indeed partially accounts for the identity of the ‘monster’ that is given them. (51)

Here Botting makes the symbolic association between the Creature and the revolutionist’s radical ideas.  Burke’s “swinish multitude” is from his essay Reflections on the Revolution in France in which he writes, “Along with its natural protectors and guardians learning will be cast into the mire, and trodden down under the hoofs of a swinish multitude” (79).  So, by comparing the Creature to the “swinish multitude” Botting has declared that the Creature’s uncanny resemblance to a human being is only a mask which the creature can use to his advantage.  He will abuse this ability in order to receive what he wants, which in this case is another abomination in the form of a bride.  By stating that both the revolutionists and the Creature are “swinish” Botting has excluded the Creature from humanity, and Burke has lowered the working class French Revolutionists to the same level of existence as pigs.   

 Graham Allen builds upon this argument by comparing Victor to the Enlightenment in order to prove that Shelley did not believe that a Godwinian—or even a Thomas Paine like—society could exist peacefully.  Allen’s findings are supported by Edmund Burke, who when writing of a constitutional society that allows for free election he states:

If possible, the next assembly must be worse than the present.  The present, by destroying and altering everything, will leave to their successors apparently nothing popular to do.  They will be roused by emulation and example to enterprises the boldest and the most absurd.  To suppose such an assembly sitting in perfect quietude is ridiculous. (199)

Burke continues his essay by determining that such a unity of representatives could not exist peacefully, and so an executive position with higher authority than the elected must exist in order to maintain a society of civil disposition. Stauffer, Botting, and Allen seem to agree that the novel takes a more conservative, Burkian approach.  In his essay Shelley’s Frankenstein Allen argues that when comparing Victor to the Enlightenment and the Creature as revolutionary reform, one can begin to see how Shelley rejects revolutionary notions because of their volatility (11-12).  Clearly this is a reference to the French Revolution’s aftermath: The Reign of Terror.  The Creature’s murderous rampage is then seen as a symbolic representation of the—what Burke would call unjust—regicide, and thus a revolutionary reform of government is unsafe.

            Andrew Stauffer extends Allen’s argument by declaring that radical ideas—which the Creature represents—are always challenged by the stability of the current system. These radical ideas are never fully rejected and many times are enforced with ignorant hatred and violence. Of the Creature Stauffer writes:

“The novel makes it clear that a lack of sympathy produces the creature’s numerous impulses . . . Rejection and desertion turn him into a violent sociopath—reason enough for Frankenstein to agree to create a spouse for the creature, and also literally to scrap that plan when he considers that she too might ‘quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species.’  So, when he is beaten and chased from the cottage by Felix DeLacey, and then abandoned by the DeLacey family—his foster family, if you will—moves away, the creature responds with ‘feelings. . . of rage and revenge,’ saying ‘I could with pleasure have destroyed the cottage and its inhabitants, and have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery.’” (Stauffer 104)

So, because the Creature is ultimately rejected by a civil society, he turns to a life of “rage and revenge.”  If the Creature symbolically represents radical notions, then these notions that are not accepted by a class of intelligence—much like the French Bourgeoisie and Monarchy—then they will be forced upon the public by force. 

            All of these arguments seem to hold water, but fail to analyze closely the reasons and intentions of the Creatures actions.  According to Mary Wolfson, a Burkean reading of Frankenstein must centralize around the notions of “harmonies and symmetries;” however, the novel instead revolves around “delightful irregularities, asymmetries, and quaint roughness” (212). Instead of being a perfect being accepted by those around him, the Creature was abandoned by his creator, self-educated, and so frightful in appearance that he is beaten and driven away every time he tries to come out of hiding.  Because of his early “tabula rasa” like life he comes from an unbiased background.  There is also the appearance of Prometheus in the title of the original 1818 novel, and the Creature’s reading of Paradise Lost.  All of these additional details bear an eerie resemblance to Shelley herself.  Shelley’s mother died in childbirth, so she mostly raised herself and became an educated woman.  She was well read in important historical texts, such as Paradise Lost and Prometheus Bound, and because of her being born a female, she is judged solely on her appearance and not on her ability.  This unjust judgment by her peers can certainly be compared to the primogeniture of the Monarch, and how it is unfair to not have a meritocracy. Her oppression and strong will most certainly would have driven Shelley to the writings of her mother, who not only asked for equality in mankind, but that women should be perceived as men’s equals.  All of this is evident when comparing Shelley to the Creature, and studying her choice of inter-texts while understanding the effects of the French Revolution on England.    But first, as the creator of the Creature, there must be an examination of Victor.  For without Victor the story would have never taken place.

            If we are to make a connection between Shelley and the Creature, then it is only natural to create a connection between the Creature’s father, Victor, to Shelley’s father, Godwin.      At first glance Victor seems to be a man who is completely guided by his social environment; he seems to blindly follow the authority of his parents when he begins his studies.  However, Victor’s first instance of independent action comes when he accompanies his family to a house party and he finds a volume of work by Cornelius Agrippa.  Victor then narrates, “I opened it with apathy; the theory which he attempts to demonstrate, and the wonderful facts which he relates, soon changed this feeling into enthusiasm” (Shelley 21).  Shortly thereafter his father condemns Agrippa and informs Victor that Agrippa is outdated.  Victor decides not to listen to his father and continues to study him. Though Victor eventually gave up studying Agrippa it was his writings that inspired Victor to ignore the laws of nature and create life from nothing more than corpse-parts.    It seems that, by putting Agrippa in the text, Shelley disagrees with Burke’s notions of total authority and encourages the reader to explore possibilities that are condemned by the general public.  By having Victor challenge his father and 19^th century scientific ideology he challenges authority and succeeds by doing something no one has ever done before—create life. 

            Victor here seems to strongly resemble William Godwin, both of whom have radical ideas and act upon them, even if their ideas may be regarded as particularly dangerous to the public.  William Godwin’s ideas may not have been as scientifically controversial, but for their time they were certainly politically dangerous opinions.  In his Summary of Principles Godwin writes:

The most desirable condition of the human species is a state of society.  The injustice and violence of men in a state of society, produced the demand for government.  Government, as it was forced upon mankind by their vices, so has it commonly been the creature of their ignorance and mistake.  Government was meant to suppress injustice, but it offers new occasions and temptations for the commission of it . . .  Government was intended to suppress justice, but its effect has been to embody and perpetuate it. (49)

Here Godwin is attacking the authority of the throne and aristocracy.  Interestingly, Godwin wrote essays concerning the inequality between the commonwealth and the monarchy, while Victor created the Creature who then questioned the inequality between himself and Victor.  Stauffer, Botting, and Allen have argued that Victor’s act of creating a living being was unwise because it became uncontrollable which, in turn, symbolizes the revolutionists in France who have—in Burke’s eyes—become an uncontrollable mob. 

            It was true that the revolutionists had become an uncontrollable mob, who have instated the Reign of Terror and began to violently murder all those in connection with the Monarch, and eventually began to murder members of the aristocracy.  I believe Shelley mirrored this by having the Creature murder Victor’s family and friends in what seems like an uncontrollable manner in order to prove a point: too much tyrannical authority can lead to a violent revolution.  In his text, “Frankenstein, or Rousseau’s Monster: Sympathy and Speculative Eyes” David Marshall argues that the Creature is a trope, and that his horrific physical state is only his outward appearance.  Rather, he is truly intelligent and caring, but Victor cannot see beyond the horrific stature of his creation (Marshall 206-7).  The violent revolutionists in France may have horrified pacifists, but beyond the violence there was the promise of freedom and the end of primogeniture.  This is mimicked by the Creature when he is committing his crimes, because all he ever wanted was a mate and an equal chance at happiness.  Shelley manages to create a feel of sympathy for the Creature, but not enough to justify his murderous ways; just as one can sympathize with the French commonwealth, but not enough to justify the Reign of Terror.  Because of this limited sympathy Shelley manages oust Burke’s Royalist philosophy while also ousting Godwin’s radical utopian concepts.  She manages to deconstruct the two philosophies and begins to explore the area between the two radical oppositions. 

In Johanna M. Smith’s article entitled Frankenstein: Combining Perspectives she states, that Botting’s text “suggests that Frankenstein contains, ‘entangles’ and also ‘parodies’ both Burke’s conservative and Godwin’s radical positions” (433). This dichotomy is seen when the Creature first comes to life.  Though Victor was enthralled when creating his creature as soon as it was brought to life its potential for self-awareness and self-execution filled Victor with fear. When Victor’s creation first comes to life he is immediately terrified of it; Victor again narrates:

How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavored to form?  His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful.  Beautiful.—Great God!  His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes . . . I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation; but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. (Shelley 34).

Victor understands that he has created this monster; he personally selected the limbs and meticulously worked on the creature for weeks on end.  He knew that the Creature would be given life, so it is odd that he is so immediately frightened of his creation.  Victor now begins to be a symbolic dichotomy; that is, he is a symbol of Godwin in that he creates a new radical idea, but he also represents the French monarchy in that he does not include the Creature—who is a symbol of Godwin’s radical idea of equality, and the revolutionists and their idea of equality—in humanity but below it.  This explains why Victor is frightened of his creation, because the French Monarchy becomes terrified of the revolution it created.  If only Victor could have seen the similarities between himself and the Creature and reason with him then maybe he could have avoided his tragic fate; just as the Monarchy could have seen the working class as equal members of society and avoided the overthrow of the French Government.  The Creature was not only meticulously constructed by Victor, but also by Shelley as she is deconstructing the caste system by giving the Creature—and the French working class in effect—humanlike characteristics that demand an equal say in how their lives should be governed. 

Shelley is not only careful to point out the uncanny resemblance of the Creature to a normal person, but she orchestrates his first few months as though his mind were a blank slate.  Shelley carefully describes the Creature as having no innate moral or ethical compass to guide m in order to avoid any biased readings of the Creature.  The Creature explains his first days alive to Victor saying:

It is with considerable difficulty that I remember the original aera of my being: all the events of that period appear confused and indistinct.  A strange multiplicity of sensations seized me, and I saw, felt, heard, and smelt at the same time; and it was, indeed, a long time before I learned to distinguish between the operations of my various senses.  By degrees, I remember, a stronger light presses upon my nerves, so that I was obliged to shut my eyes.  Darkness then came over me, and troubled me; but hardly had I felt this, when, by opening my eyes, as I now suppose, the light poured in upon me again (Shelley 68).

Shelley makes sure to quash the idea that humans are born with any sense of morality, which in turn undermines a king’s supposed provincial/inherent knowledge of what is best for his kingdom.  This train of thought is most definitely anti-royalist—and in turn anti-Burke—and because the creature managed to raise himself and become eloquent he is a voice for the classes which are considered to be sub-human.  He was able to educate himself to the point of understanding the culture around him.  He realized what Victor has done to him by abandoning him. It is with his new knowledge that he decided to take revenge by killing those closest to Victor, which symbolically represents the French working class’s violent revolt and Reign of Terror.  Though the Creature may be a violent rendition of revolution, he is still a symbol of equality. In David Marshall’s “Frankenstein, or Rousseau’s Monster: Sympathy and Speculative Eyes” Marshall argues that throughout the story the reader becomes acquainted with the Creature’s hardships, and by doing so the reader feels an amount of sympathy for him (210).  The Creature seems to be judged and condemned for his new, radical image, much like how the French monarch disregards the radical requests for liberty from the third estate. 

            This blind sense of injustice is made prominent just after the Creature returns to Victor and makes a bargain with him.  The Creature requested that Victor design a mate for him and in return he would disappear from civilization and leave Victor alone.  Victor contemplated creating a female monster and nearly completed his project until he has a change of heart and destroys the unfinished creature.  In his article “Devaluing Life in Shelley’s FRANKENSTEIN” Lars Lunsford argues that, “Victor reasons that by refusing to finish the female monster he is saving humanity, but really it is Victor’s inability to see the monster’s own value, and not his concern for the world, that leads him to leave his ‘Adam’ without a mate” (Lunsford 175).  A similar pact was made in France before the rise of the Revolutionists, the Monarchy promised to listen to all three estates equally; however, King Louis XVI did not hold true to his word because he believed the general public to be equal to that of pigs, and if he gave in to them once, they would want more and more freedom. So King Louis, in a sense, believed he was saving humanity by depriving human rights to the third estate.  What resulted was the general public’s revolt which ended with violent anarchy. By having Victor and the Creature’s conflict mirror that of the French Revolution, Mary Shelley is again condemning both Burke’s Royalist philosophy and Godwin’s utopian ideals.  Shelley seems to agree with governmental reform, but through peaceful negotiation and tact. If Victor would have just listened to the Creature’s tale he would have realized that it was his fault and his abandonment that resulted in the Creature’s violent destruction of his life.  The same applies to the French Monarchy, the people’s violent rebellion may have been morally wrong, but it was the Monarch’s fault for instilling years of inequality and harsh laws.  The monarch creates an uprising by ignoring the voice of the majority, who, to the royal class, are below that of humans, just as Victor sees his Creature. What is interesting is that the Creature also seems to symbolize two different persons, the first being the French revolutionists, and the second being Shelley herself.  This becomes evident when analyzing not only the Creature’s role in Frankenstein, but also studying the literature of her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft.

In 1818 there was a fair amount of discrimination between the sexes, and no matter how hard Shelley tried, she could never be seen as an equal peer among her friend Lord Byron, and her husband Percy Bysshe Shelley.  I believe that is was her perception of this inequality that led her to write Frankenstein not only as a political novel, but also a novel that critiques the hierarchy of the sexes employed in the 19^th century.  If Shelley’s Creature is, in fact, a symbolic incarnation of herself, one can begin to see her mother’s—Mary Wollstonecraft’s—feminist writings surface in Frankenstein. Such views express themselves when the Creature asks Victor to create a mate, he begs, “My companion will be of the same nature as myself, and will be content with the same fare.  We shall make out bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as man, and will ripen our food” (98).  Here the Creature seems to beg Victor for a mate that he can call equal; however, the line, “the sun will shine on us as man,” seems to express the creatures longing for an equal status among men.  In Wollstonecraft’s “A Vindication for the Rights of Woman” she writes:

What acquirement exalts one being above another?  Virtue; we spontaneously reply.  For what purpose were the passions implanted?  That man by struggling with them might attain a degree of knowledge denied the brutes . . . Consequently the perfection of our nature and capability of happiness must be estimated by the degree of reason, virtue, and knowledge, that distinguish the individual and direct the laws which bind society. . . and from that exercise of reason, knowledge, and virtue naturally flow, is equally undeniable, if mankind be viewed collectively. (76).

Wollstonecraft and the Creature seem to long for the same sense of total equality.  No doubt Mary Shelley’s composing the line “the sun will shine on us as man,” was in support not only for the rights of women, but that she was deserving of an equal place in literary fame as her husband.  She is no less qualified, and no less intelligent, but still because—not unlike the Creature—she was created different from man, and is persecuted for it. 

Though Shelley’s novel seems to support the ideas of revolution and regicide, her writing critiques violent usurpation as being harsh and cruel.  Though the novel seems to be a political warning concerning monarchs, she doesn’t seem to fully embrace Godwin’s utopian ideas.  Rather, she seems to fit in with Thomas Paine’s ideas about government in that, “government even in its best state is but a necessary evil . . .” but that a government should be run by those who are governed which “will establish a common interest with every part of the community, they will mutually and naturally support each other, and on this depends the strength of the government, and the happiness of the governed (Paine 7-8).  In Frankenstein, Shelley seems to positively relate to the concept of equality; but when equality leads to violence the novel condemns it. When the Creature speaks to R. Walton after Victor’s death he says:

No sympathy may I ever find.  When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, the feelings of happiness and affection with which my whole being overflowed, that I wished to be participated. . . But now vice has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. . . When I call over the frightful catalogue of my deeds, I cannot believe that I am he whose thoughts were once filled with sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and majesty of goodness.  (154)

Shelley here shows that the Creature feels compassion, and is full of regret for what he has done.  After the Reign of Terror France’s economy was in shambles and the country was left without a fully functioning governmental system.  Just as the Creature feels as though he has lost a better part of himself, the revolutionists eventually realized that some form of government would be needed to keep a country stable. 

            Though the Creature feels as though he never was able to join the ranks of man, just as Shelley is unable to, he did manage to emulate the De Lacey’s and learn how to speak and read by eavesdropping on them while they spent time in their cottage.  One of the books the Creature read was John Milton’s Paradise Lost, which is also quoted before every volume within the novel.  He claims to have read Paradise Lost as nonfiction and, being not yet mature, believed the book to be about the actual creation and fall of humankind.  When explaining his reading of Paradise Lost to Victor, the Creature says:

I often referred the several situations, as their similarity struck me, to my own.  Like Adam, I was created apparently united by no link to any other being in existence; but his state was far different from mine in every respect.  He had come forth from the hands of God a perfect creature, happy and prosperous, guarded by the especial care of his creator; he was allowed to converse with, and acquire knowledge from beings of a superior nature: but I was wretched, helpless, and alone.  Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition, for often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my protectors, the bitter gall of envy rose within me (Shelley 87). 

Here the Creature makes the obvious connection between himself and Adam, acknowledging that he and Adam were both created out of darkness.  Intriguingly, the Creature then recants and admits that he feels as though he has a more powerful connection to Satan within Paradise Lost.  The Creature can sympathize and feel compassion for Satan because he is in a similar situation.  He also feels abandoned and feels as though his bitterness is justified because all he has striven for is equality.  Satan strove for equality as well and ended up being cast down to hell, just as the Creature was cast away into the dangers of the world without any guidance.

            The appearance of Paradise Lost is not coincidental, as Shelley must have molded the Creature—and in a sense herself—after the fictitious Satan.  At one point in Paradise Lost Satan confers with his counsel and devises a plan to befoul God’s providence.  Satan says to his counsel:

                        Doing or suffering: but of this be sure,

                        To do aught good will never be our task,

                        But ever to do ill be our sole delight,

                        As being the contrary to his high will

                        Whom we resist.  If then his providence

                        Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,

                        Our labor must be to pervert that end . . . (Milton 8).

I assert that Shelley is reading Paradise Lost from a non-secular point of view. It is easy to see how Shelley can relate with Satan’s anger towards God, and why his plans to “pervert” God’s providence.  For, God’s providence in Paradise Lost can be symbolically linked to the French Monarchy’s belief in their divine right to rule the country, and thereby oppress the common people of France.  Shelley manages to tie these concepts into her novel by having the creature become oppressed by Victor’s lack of sympathy.  It is Victor’s resemblance of the French Monarchy—and ultimately Paradise Lost’s God— that makes it seem as though Shelley agrees with the Revolutionists ideology of banishing regal primogeniture, though not violently.  She gives the Creature a voice striving for equality but Victor, the symbolic monarch, refuses to hear it, and sadly the Creature feels as though he must resort to violence in order to get what he wants.  Satan exacted his revenge as well, but what makes this odd is that—because of God’s providence—Satan was predetermined to ruin mankind.  Victor believes that he was fated to duel with the Creature, and if he is correct then he was destined to lose everyone he loved.  The same applies to the French monarchy, if it is God’s will for the monarchy to rule, then it must still be his will if the monarchy falls.

Moreover, Satan’s radical notion of resisting and altering God’s plan is much like Victor’s fabrication of the Creature.  Victor, in a sense, is usurping God’s power and creating a being in his own image.  However, because the Creature becomes an uncontrollable menace, Shelley is making it known that man is not a suitable replacement for God.  Man is thrown out of Eden for usurping God’s will and since his mistake has been tyrannically governed by domineering and kings and autocratic emperors.  The result of an overbearing monarchy, such as that in France, is violent revolution.  It seems as though Shelley’s argument does not only strive for political equality, but also extends her mother’s feminist arguments by claiming that not only should all men and women be equals, but equals under the rule of God—the true God, not an imposter claiming to have divinely inherited his position over people or women. 

            Paradise Lost isn’t the only mythological reference Shelley makes in Frankenstein, she also cited Prometheus in the extended title of the book.  She writes that Victor Frankenstein is a modern Prometheus, who, like Prometheus, defied a greater deities’ will and created life from the inanimate.  While she was writing Frankenstein, Shelley’s husband—Percy—was composing the lyrical play Prometheus Bound. This text most certainly was one of the major influences that guided the political implications within her novel.  Prometheus was a titan who created mankind, gave them the gift of fire, and then abandoned them to be later persecuted by the gods.  Victor Frankenstein created the Creature and then abandoned him, but wasn’t tortured by a higher being, but rather was tortured by his abomination.  However, Prometheus and Victor both violated the ethics of their culture and are being punished for their actions.  Prometheus and Victor also share a common trait: they are both stubborn and believe that their actions were fated.  In Prometheus Bound Hermes says to Prometheus:

                        I say too much and seem to speak in vain.

                        You are not moved; you do not melt

                        At any prayers of mine;

                        But like a colt being broken in

                        You chomp the bit

                        And strain against the rein.

                        Yet what a feeble notion makes you rage:

                        This silly-minded mere self-will—

                        It does not make you strong at all (Aeschylus 76).

Prometheus tells Hermes that his words fall on deaf ears and that his fate was determined long ago.  This isn’t unlike Victor and his belief that he and the Creature were destined to share a journey in life, which vaguely echoes Paradise Lost’s vision of God’s providence.  Victor also believes the Creature to be inherently evil, and before Prometheus is unbound from his rock—in Percy Bysse Shelley’s adaptation Prometheus Unbound—his gift of fire is perceived as evil as it allows man to forge weapons of war.  Interestingly, man without guidance from a deity becomes evil and wretched, much like the Creature in Frankenstein.  Again, in Paradise Lost man’s fall from Eden is due to his rebellion against God; in Prometheus Bound man’s tyranny begins after Prometheus’s disappearance from Earth, and the French Revolutionists Reign of Terror occurs after the divinity of the monarch is proved false.  It is only when Demogorgon, a god represents the qualities of equality and not tyranny, frees Prometheus and he returns to Earth that man can live in unity. (P. Shelley 69).  The fallen mortals in Paradise Lost ultimately become saved by God’s coming to Earth in the form of Christ who promises eternal unity and life.  Mary Shelley seems to admit that some form of political and spiritual guidance in necessary for man to live in unity, but not that of the monarchy.

            The culmination of these points leads the reader to believe that Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein does not side with the philosophies of William Godwin, nor of those of Edmund Burke.  Rather, her text sits somewhere in between, denying the possibility of a purely communist utopia because of man’s inherent wretchedness.  In “Common Sense” Thomas Paine discusses the necessity of government when he writes, “nothing but heaven is impregnable to vice, it will unavoidably happen. . . and this remissness will point out the necessity of, of establishing some form of government to supply the defect of moral virtue” (7).  Paine declares that man with all of his infinite opinions needs some guidance from a government.

That does not mean that Paine or Shelley rely on Burke’s philosophy, but, rather, deny his notions of total authoritarian control.  Of the monarchy Paine says, “That the kind is not to be trusted without being looked after, or in other words, that a thirst for absolute power is the natural disease of monarchy. . . Some writers have explained the English constitution thus; the king, say they, is one, the commons another; he peers are an house in behalf of the king; the commons in behalf of the people; but this hath all the distinctions of a house divided against itself. . .” (10).  The absolute power that a monarchy possesses is a poison that creates inequality among both men and women.  Instead, a form of government in which all can be celebrated as equals seems to be the political point of Shelley’s novel.  She delicately illustrates the anarchy that can result from no guidance by mirroring the Creatures violent murders with the French Reign of Terror; but she is adamant to make the point that the violence is caused by extreme oppression and denial of basic human rights.  What is required—it seems according to Shelley—is a government that is run by the populace, not a populace run by a government. 

Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus

This is an introductory blog to what will be the next piece of criticism I publish here.  I wrote a lengthy paper about Shelley's masterpiece and when I receive my feedback from my professor I will make the appropriate changes and publish it here, along with a short synopsis and the historical background to the novel.  Just to warn you, the story itself is very entertaining but much of the criticism I found was somewhat dry, especially because of the overwhelming feminist response to the novel.  I managed to stay away from the mainstream approach and I tried to adopt a more psycho-social philosophy when critiquing the novel.  Keep in mind that Mary Shelley's  novel was first published in 1818 when she was only 19 years old.  However, like I have said before I believe a text can speak for itself, especially when it comes to the author's subconscious.  It should be posted here in the next week or so, and hopefully that begets a strand of new posts.  Hopefully.

Finally, I will continue this blog...

I will be posting my essay on Frankenstein in a few days, once I have turned it in to my prof.  Along with it I will be sure to clarify the main points and throw in more about the theorists included.   This is just a short, simple post that serves as a promise to continually update this blog during the summer.  Hopefully it should be habit forming.

O Sweet Spontaneous - E. E. Cummings

March 17, 2010



This following blog post is result of my busy schedule.  I wrote this over an incredibly long time, and so some thoughts may not be complete, and others may be out of place, so please understand that this is not my best writing, and that from here, it should only get better.  (More examples from other text, more ideology, thicker deconstruction, and longer prose)  But, until I have more time, enjoy a quick deconstruction of ee Cummings poem, O Sweet Spontaneous.


O sweet spontaneous
Earth how often have
the doting



fingers of
prurient philosophies pinched
and poked



thee
has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy



beauty how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy
knees squeezing and



buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
(but
true


to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover


thou answerest

them only with

spring)
 
 
I don't know why, but I absolutely love this poem.  It is one of my favorites because I love the format in which it is written, and I also love its deep, yet easily understandable message.  We will, in this blog, slowly dissect this poem and probe it with our prurient minds to discover its surface meaning, and maybe, if lucky, stumble upon hidden meanings.  When I close-read a text I love to use analogy, and the best analogy that describes close, deconstructive reading that I have heard is: to look at the woven text and pull on its threads until it completely unravels from itself.  As I have already lectured, language and written text can be a very complicated beast, one which fights you and your understanding every step of the way.  This poem, though on the surface looks quite harmless, is subject to the complexities associated with its textual composition.  Each word, each stanza, each literal meaning, and each metaphorical supposition comes from the human intellect, the very intellect that can supposedly discern between even simple differences of a words context and meaning.  This poem is a very critical examination of the human intellect, the metaphysical prowess of religious leaders, and a deconstruction of form itself.  So we shall begin the examination:
 
O sweet spontaneous/Earth how often have/the/doting/fingers of/prurient philosophers pinched/and/poked/thee... 
 
This stanza from the literal sense is a statement of supposed fact by the narrator.  Now the narrators use of poke and prodded gives the reader a feeling.  He compares the philosopher's study of the earth and its natural and supernatural phenomena to a doctor examining a patient, or a layman examining a piece of fruit. The narrator is stating that philosophers try to answer hypotheses about the workings of the world as easily as a man finds a bruise under the skin of an apple.
 
Has the naughty thumb/of science prodded/thy/beauty
 
This stanza somewhat mirrors the first, as the philosopher pokes and pinches and investigates the household which contains the mysteries of our existence, science tries to use a battering ram to force itself in.  The narrator distinguishes the differences between philosophy and science; philosophy only merely pinches, and uses Socratic methodology to ask open ended questions which only speculate, but because science prods forcefully its thumb it tries to determine concrete, empirical explanations for phenomena.  Science creates theory (not always proven in itself) that it claims can only be disputed by real, solid evidence.

.how/often have religions taken/thee upon their scraggy knees/squeezing and/buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive/gods

So far, we have philosophy gently poking the Earth's mysteries by asking gentle and unrestricted questions; while science forces its theories and assumed empirical evidence as answers to metaphysical questions.  As if these two categories aren't enough, religion has to bend its knee and try to squeeze answers from these questions. Squeezing the earth so hard, in fact, that it (thou) mights't conceive gods.  The answers to questions through the eyes of religion can always be answered by deity.  It is the convenience of gods as an answer that has been to blame the laziness of a race, yet at the same time through direct contradiction, it is religion and deity that has brought devotion and dedication of equality and the betterment of the human race.  This is a very tricky supposition, one that assumes that dichotomy is rampant within these first three themes of the text, and will make its appearance again in my writing, after we have dissimulated this poem fully.

(but/true/to the incomparable/couch of death thy/rhythmic/lover/thou answerest/them only with/spring)

This last section of the poem is the narrator's way of concluding that all of these questions are useless.  They lack utility, that is, what use is a question which cannot be answered?  We pry, force, and ponder the workings of complexities we cannot comprehend, yet the Earth in all of its simplicity answers these questions with a rather elemetary concept: that the earth has cyclical seasons, though not consistent, and not at all permanent; and that everything dies, everything that was once animate will become stationary.  Death in this instance, is a wild beast, hidden within its couch, no matter how obscure the hiding place, we always find death. 

Now that we have fully explored this poem and its literal translation, let us begin to see what we can find.  Though the poem seems to be made of four distinctly different points, it is not.  It is after all, one poem, not four.  Yes we can say that the narrator speaks of (1) philosophy (2) science (3) religion, and (4) Earth's bittersweet answer; but philosophy, science, and religion are all the same thing, yet not.  Depending upon your individual vantage point, one might view religion and science through the eyes of philosophy (philosophy is, after all, the study of life, and the word's meaning in partial is the way one lives), or philosophy and religion through a scientific scope and so on.......   These three distinct studies are in fact, one study, and cannot survive with the absence of the other.  To be religious (in the Christian sense) is to live a life full of self-sacrifice and worship, and if self-sacrifice and worship are a way of life, they are your philosophy.  Religious people cannot doubt the effects of modern day science, modern physics, pharmacology, alchemy, etc.  Though some religions will all but ban the idea of science in their communities, science still has an effect on their community.  Science cannot survive without philosophy or religion as well; metaphysical enigmas have been known to plague the minds of even great scientists such as Stephen Hawking.  Even he does not know how the Earth came to be (after he denounced most of his own theories).  Charles Dawkins, the renowned atheist, would not have a job if it were not for his opposition within the religious communities.  Jacques Derrida's explanation for this is that we live in a world of difference.  We can decode information, express ideas, and understand concepts because of difference and likeness.  (We know what blue is because it is not red).   It is the beginning of this poem where we begin to find problems, the idea that there are three distinct studies, yet they are all one in the same: the study of life.  However, the study of life seems to be mostly pointless, ineffectual questions without answers; and these questions is where we will begin to examine the purpose of this poem.


Let us look deeply now at these first three themes, these questions that beg answers.  Cummings here is addressing that we as a race of "intellect" require answers to the questions that are unanswerable.  (If they were, what fun would life be?)  It is through this series of inquiries that we get a sense of how hopeless our intellectual predicament is, because not only are we looking in three distinctly different directions, we are at the same time looking down the same path.  We all see the world and perceive it through our own empirical experiences, through interactions with the environment, and dialogue with others, and monologue to the self.  We constantly criticize and judge, interpret and misinterpret, perceive and omit, through our own selves.  One's self is (obviously) a creation of nature and nurture, and what one has been fed as knowledge. (The knowledge one understands and believes, that is).  All of these sensory applications have been, and are constantly-consistently being changed and manipulated by the means of change to one's self, the outside world, and the three schema's mentioned above: philosophy, science. religion.  Now, remember that philosophy, science, and religion are studying the same subject: life, and coming up with different answers not only based on their own private evidence but also on each other's discoveries.  These three studies are what make up the trivium.  The trivium is the study of: liberal arts, comprising grammar, rhetoric, and logic. This poem sums up the trivium's quest-- the meaning of life-- as being inane, because the earth only answers with natural events and death. However, the trivium does not ask the Earth questions, instead science theorizes, religion states, and philosophy asks questions and later uses rhetoric to expand on these questions a la Socratic Method.  Philosophy questions the question, science does indeed prod its naughty thumb, and religion does try to conceive gods; but the Earth does not answer with only Spring, nor does it only conclude with death.


Without the questions the trivium proposes, we are left with nothing else to explore.  This poem is obviously over simplistic, with the only answers in life being natural occurences and the inescapable trap of death.  Emotions for example are very complex, modern science cannot fully explain the ideals of love, hate, conscience, etc.  Yes, we can observe how these things work, we can understand the triggers, but we cannot fully explain what the feeling is. (Yes, I know, we can explain the effects of the brain and synapses, but truly the feeling and the lasting effects are truly beyond any other creature.)  This is comparable to metaphysical questions, though scientific in nature we are still learning.  A crude, rudimentary answer would not only anger those who study emotions and the psyche, but would also limit the potential of the human understanding of emotions.  This crude answer by the narrator limits our understanding of the metaphysical, of the Earth, and of our existence.  Without these ponderings we wouldn't have great literary classics, many of which are based in the questionings of science, philosophy, and religion in life.  These questions are what keep us interested as humans, these questions which seem to be unanswerable should be pursued.  The most relevant literary piece I can think of at this moment is Shakespeare's Hamlet. 

Hamlet questions life and death, science, religion, and philosophy.  To be or not to be is more than just a soliloquy in which Hamlet questions the idea of suicide, but it is Shakespeare's deconstruction of life and death.  (The whole play is, actually).  He questions what happens after death, if anything at all?   His insanity/sanity (what have you) is the perfect tool to adopt a wild philosophy to question metaphysics from all angles.  He simultaneously questions life through religious (what dreams may come after we have shuffled off this mortal coil?) , atheist(There's the respect that makes clamity of so long life) , scientific (I knew this man... allusions to decomposition of human remains after death), and rhetorical (sane but yet not sane, but yet sane) perspectives.  Questions like these show the flaws within the poem, that there are not simple answers, and if these questions are answered so simply, and worse, accepted by a majority, then the work of millions for so long a period is abandoned.  It is impossible to separate the study of the earth into three groups because they are all one in the same, yet distinctly different.  Each category is present in a questioner, yet each is absent at the same time, depending on who's listening and who is interpreting.  Let us hope that nothing is ever this simple, but rather that the questions of life only be answered when we are called, by the hidden death, to accept our fate and shuffle off this mortal coil.

A Small Introduction about the Author

February 23, 2010


Hello all!

I believe that I done what I inevitably do with every good idea that I have, that is gotten ahead of myself. Yes, the first fundamental post was a basic synopsis of the blog and its intentions. However, I managed to exclude speaking about myself, and as the author and father of this blog I believe that it my be necessary to write a small article about myself so that you, the reader, can get a clear picture of how naive I really am, and how much I have to learn.

My name is Edward and I live in the wonderful state of Nebraska, now before you start talking about how it is flat, barren, and smothers creativity I would like to argue the contrary. First, Nebraska's population may be very limited, but the people here have great ideas, enormous potential and brilliant personalities. I live near Omaha; the population is sitting around the 800,000 mark. Where we lack in activities we make up for in improvisation. I, being an avid outdoors enthusiast, love the fact that I can drive for 15-20 minutes and end up in the country, where inspiration and silence consume the soul. There's something special about being in the open expanse of country, the flat green rolling hills. My favorite inspirational spot is a patch of land that my family owns, just north of Bennington. As you approach the land you drive past cornfields and small dilapidated farm houses, if you take the right route you can drive through a small town known as Elk City. I believe the population of that city sits somewhere around the 20-30 mark; the town has one bar, The Ponderosa, and two roads. The first is the paved road that cuts through the center of the town in a North-South direction. You can see the sites of the town on this road, the white church, the white city hall, both with white picket fences. It is like stepping back in time, maybe to the time of Willa Cather, seeing what the towns must have looked like in their infancy. If you take the rock road that leads to the church and city hall, you will surely see the graveyard. This graveyard has gravestones which date to the late 1800's to the early 1900's. Quite rustic.

Anyway, once you drive through this small town and take the highway west you make a few more turns and you find yourself at the entrance to the land de Vogel. As you drive down the private road you become encompassed by a think forest of cottonwood trees. In the spring it sometimes looks as though it is snowing because of the way the cotton floats off of the trees onto the ground. Once you fully traverse the road you come to an open clearing, this clearing is not natural or by happenstance, but rather a result of hard work by my family. We cleared the cottonwoods out of this area, and before you get angry at the destruction know that we did this for a purpose. First we wanted a clearing for aesthetic purposes, but ultimately we cleared the area in order to create a pond. So, it is this beautiful and aesthetically pleasing setting that is perfect for inspiration when writing. Once you end up at the clearing you can take one more road, this one leads to the river. The Elkhorn river may not be the prettiest river in the world (far from it, because of its green and mud based color) but its sounds and wildlife continue to entertain me, and affect my writing.

Now you know where my inspiration lies, out within the woods near the Elkhorn River. I just wanted to share that with all of you, most likely because I will be writing a lot about that patch of land. My writing lately has most likely suffered (as you can probably tell) and when spring time and warm weather finally comes around I will be visiting that area much more frequently.

Now, a little about myself, not the land. I am 24 years old and currently student teaching English at a high school here in Nebraska. Once I finish my student teaching career I plan to start my masters in English and hopefully attain that degree in about 2 years time. From there I plan to teach and most likely work on my Ph.D. in a specific field, not sure which yet though. I have a wonderful girlfriend and an equally wonderful family; if it weren't for them I wouldn't have half the ambition. My interests are literature, philosophy, writing, the outdoors, and things of that nature (You could have guessed).

I do hope that you enjoy this blog, much more creative and insightful posts (like the first post, poetry, short stories, and the likes) are on the way soon!!